Sugar on the Edge(96)

Custom-built shelving holds everything I’d ever need to process a print. I wouldn’t have to go to the local community college to borrow their equipment ever again. It has everything… an enlarger, a safelight. Supplies galore… easel, tongs, processing trays. Bottles to hold the processing fluid, funnels, paper… even a little print squeegee.

“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper as my fingers glide across the enlarger.

Gavin walks up behind me and he puts his hands around my overly large waist, linking them over my huge girth. “This is where you say thank you.”

Turning in his arms, I say, “Thank you, my sweet, filthy boy. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he murmurs before he kisses me. “Do you like?”

“I love,” I assure him. “But why now? What brought this on?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I just figured if you had your own place, you could do more photography and because you love it so much… you really need to do more photography, love.”

“But I have a job. I help you with all of your stuff.”

“But that’s not your passion, Sweet. You need to go after your passion.”

“You’re my passion,” I tell him and kiss him again. He kisses me back and pushes me backward into the table.

“Speaking of passion,” he says against my lips. His hand comes up and grazes against my breast. So freakin’ sensitive nowadays that I can’t help but arch into him. “I’m thinking we could make use of this table right now.”

Yes, please.

“Baby… you know how to say all the right things,” I tell him with a grin and start to work at his belt buckle.

“I know how to do all the right things too,” he assures me as he bats my hands away so he can lift my shirt over my head. “Give me just a minute, and I’ll prove it to you.”

I can’t help but sigh in anticipation.

Yes, please.